July 6, 2010 at 2:30 pm | Filed under the helga manual, the internets
I got this from Kath’s Twitter.
The highest score indicates your primary love language (the highest score is 12). It’s not uncommon to have two high scores, although one language does have a slight edge for most people. That just means two languages are important to you.
The lower scores indicate those languages you seldom use to communicate love and which probably don’t affect you very much on an emotional level.
~o~o~o~o~o~
In Quality Time, nothing says “I love you” like full, undivided attention. Being there for this type of person is critical, but really being there—with the TV off, fork and knife down, spreading acne body lotion all ova each other (lololol), and all chores and tasks on standby—makes you feel truly special and loved. Distractions, postponed activities, or the failure to listen can be especially hurtful.
Find out your love language profile here.
July 5, 2010 at 7:47 pm | Filed under breaking up the girl, ditz drivel
Let me tell you something about me that may take you by surprise and I would really appreciate it if you, interested reader, stifled your giggles and tried not to laugh or go “Helga, you lie.” Don’t worry, it’s nothing personal, nothing that’ll make you go “Uh, TMI”; just a little FYI, just a little something to let you get to know me better.
I’m not really a talkative person. I’m serious. When out with friends, I’d rather everyone just shut up. Yes, I am exaggerating but you get my point: I’d take awkward silence over having the air filled with drivel and stupid banter. I hate it when people open their mouths for the sake of hearing their own voice and I hate unnecessary talking. Of course, “stupid” and “drivel” are relative and my favorite people and dearest friends are always brilliant and compelling conversationalists. They also provide a lot of lulz and advice on adult acne treatments (okay, maybe not).
When I was in high school, a boy peer once remarked that my future husband would probably be the unluckiest dude in the world because I was bound to be a nag of a wife. He then proceeded to mimic me: he raised his arm, jabbed his finger in the air and went “wah! wah! wah!” in a shrill, un-Helga voice. It was pretty silly and I (will admit) kinda hurtful. Whatever; I could see how Teenage Helga was obnoxious. I also didn’t really learn how to modulate my voice ’til I was in college.
I like quiet. Some days, I can go without uttering a single word out loud. On most days, the only conversation I have is when I have to buy something: “Isang pack ng Marlboro Reds” or “Stored value” or “Dalawang orders ng siomai, take out, no chili.” It’s a little sad but I’ve gotten used to it the same way I’ve gotten used to absence, to waiting.
July 5, 2010 at 5:06 pm | Filed under breaking up the girl, camwhorage, food
Some days just aren’t worth waking up for.
It’s worse when it’s a Monday and I have to shuffle my feet out of bed and through my morning coffee and put on clothes that are too hot to wear. I’d rather spend the day on the xbox 360 or on my couch marathon-ing Lipstick Jungle and Cougar Town.
I sound bratty, I know. Some people don’t have jobs etc etc.
On a lighter note: four days ’til the weekend.
A poem:
The Quiet World (Jeffrey McDaniel)
In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
And a photo:
Special chicken chelo kebab half-swimming in garlic/white sauce. If this grosses you out, you’re not eating your special chicken chelo kebab right.
July 2, 2010 at 6:33 pm | Filed under camwhorage, joyful girl, shopping
I got the day off from work today because it’s Pasig Day (and I work in Ortigas Center, yay) so I made plans with my friend, Tin, to hit SM Megamall. …And we swear it wasn’t because Forever21 opened today. Tin needed a backpack and I needed to look at some all clad copper core cookware, heehee. We didn’t have much time because Tin was meeting some friends for dinner at 4pm so we rushed through the afternoon. I was running late (what else is new) having done the oil cleansing method before taking a shower (more about this in another blog entry!) so it was a little past two when we met up (we’re neighbors, by the way!) and it had already started to rain.
This crazy changing weather sucks.
I’m wearing my irritating fake glasses because I did my makeup in less than five minutes and my eyeliner got all messy. That plus sweat plus the rain = UGH.
A few more photos!
July 1, 2010 at 2:27 pm | Filed under camwhorage, ditz drivel
I got bored browsing promotional products online yesterday so I decided to use the Sally Hansen facial hair bleach/cream hair bleach I got on Tuesday and lighten my eyebrows.
Okay, so that’s not true (the bit about me getting bored); yesterday, I came to work. Nothing unusual about that except that it was a special non-working holiday (I hate these things cos they dare be called “holidays” yet we don’t get paid if we don’t go to work) and only two of us in our department came in. I took half the day off, went to Book Sale and disinterestedly checked out books, bought a skirt and a top, and then rushed home a little past 7pm when I realized that I’ve only had two cupcakes to eat the entire day. For someone who only spent four hours in the office, I was exhausted.
Now that I’ve blabbed and typed enough words— PICS and the PROCESS!
I think that was J or Crystal who said that eyebrows are supposed to be two shades darker than your hair. Now I’ve got fake auburn hair but I’m pretty sure black isn’t dark brown/reddish brown/auburn lol.
Gasps!
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Hi, my name's Helga Weber and welcome to my personal site. I'm 24. My first socio-political scandal will happen at the age of 35 and will include men, sushi, an African country, and lots of money. My lover is the greatest. 
